


the eerie demise of justice

by TurntechLoveThis (angelcult)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Gore, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/TurntechLoveThis
Summary: “If I should die, and leave you here awhile / Be not like others sore undone, who keep / Long vigils by the silent dust and weep. / For my sake, turn again to life, and smile, / Nerving thy heart and trembling hand to do / Something to comfort weaker hearts than thine. / Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine, / And I, perchance, may therein comfort you..” — Mary Lee HallDave knows that justice is a blind and disoriented thing, he knows that her eyes bleed and her smile is stilted, but he hopes her eyes will fall upon him; he wants justice for his fallen sun.
Relationships: John Egbert/Dave Strider
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	the eerie demise of justice

“Do you remember when justice felt reachable?” John muttered brokenly, turning on his side to face Dave in their shared bed.

Pained red eyes met blue, white-blond eyebrows drawing up to betray his confusion at the sudden question, but his mouth spoke only defeat.

“John, dont-“

“Please.” John’s soft black hair was matted on one side with blood, his cheeks were stained with tears and sticky from the tracks they left, wayward strands of hair sticking to his skin almost painfully.

“Just.. tell me you remember.” It was a plea, he wanted to know if Dave remembered a time before Jack Noir, before they were stolen from their respectful homes only to be thrown into a beautiful manor with hideous secrets.

“I need you to remember what the sun felt like.” He whispers, forcing himself to crawl a bit closer to the other and Dave shushed him, pulling him into his arms.

His head was still bleeding, and Dave felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Tell me you remember what the sun felt like on your skin, that you remember your brothers faces, that you-“ His voice catches and Dave can hear the hysteria, they both know that his time is drawing near, that soon, this little piece of the sun will hide behind a cloud, never to show its rays again. 

“That you’re going to remember me, please, Dave, don’t forget me-“ John’s hands shake as he reaches up and traces along Dave’s cheeks, around his eyes and over the gentle slope of his nose.

“Tell me.. tell me you’ll be okay without me.” He whispers, voice thin and _weak_ in a way that Dave has never heard it before, and it.. it kills him to know that John is pleading with him like this, as if he will ever forget him.

“I..” Dave was never religious, but he thinks this is what it means to watch an angel die, to see their grace diminish, and watch their halos dim to darkness.

“I’ll do it. I’ll save us. I’ll.. I’ll get us out of this place.” He whispers back and John smiles, and when he does, blood starts to drip from his nose.

It’s deep and dark, and Dave feels his eyes cloud over with tears as he recognizes it.

Internal bleeding, it’s too late, John’s already dead in his arms even as his heart beats.

Dave pressed a kiss to John’s mouth, their lips were dry and cracked, he could taste blood in his mouth and it painted his lips red and smeared down his chin, but it didn’t stop him from softly sighing his words into John’s mouth.

“I’ll give you justice, I love you, I’ll do it for you.”

John pulls back and smiles, his eyes are unfocused and his pupils are slowly dilating.

“I’m sleepy,” He says suddenly and a sob follows, like he knows, of course he knows. “I’m really tired, Dave, I’m so.. I’m so tired.”

Dave nods, and he hugs John, careful not to jostle him too much as he rubs his hand up and down the other’s back, softly shushing him.

“It’s okay. You can go to sleep.”

“I’m scared.”

Dave thinks those words are what makes him experience heartbreak, and suddenly no amount of kidnappings and torture can compare to what he’s feeling.

“I’m scared too, but it’s okay,” It’s not, it’ll never be okay after this, “it’ll be okay.” 

John goes quiet, but Dave doesn’t panic, he’s still breathing brokenly and that’s all Dave can hold on to.

Dave doesn’t know how long it took until John’s breathing evened out into the gentle lull of sleep, but eventually, it leaves sleep and he breathes no more.

His body relaxes in his arms and Dave can’t cry, he can only hold his body, his only piece of the sun, hidden behind a cloud.

Forever.

  
  


The lock clicks after rigor mortis starts to set in, and Dave holds his breath.

“Wake up.” He doesn’t recognize the voice, some faceless guard, no doubt.

“Hey, I said get up.” He walks over and kicks the bed. Dave allows his head to fall to the side limply, eyes partially open; his mouth is still stained with blood.

“Fuck,” He swears and quickly leaves the room and Dave allows himself to breath until he hears more footsteps come back and he holds it, and then he hears _him._

“Are you fucking kidding me? They can’t be dead! How! How did this happen on _your_ watch! The ransom is worm food now!”

He hears yelling and scuffling, his lungs burn, his justice is dead in his arms.

He wants to breathe, but he can’t, not now, not until he knows there’s even a chance that they’ll make it out of this place.

Dead or not, this won’t be John’s final resting place. 

“What should we do with them?”

It falls silent and Dave wants them to hurry up, he doesn’t know how long he can do this.

“Take them to the basement, we’ll send their bodies to their families. Make it seem intentional, we’ll get our point across either way.”

“Yes, sir.”

It’s silent until he hears them leave, he knows he’s alone but only chances small breathes until the burning dies down, and stops completely when he hears more feet.

They pause above him, looking down at he and John’s tangled bodies before sighing loudly.

“Poor kids..” He lifts them up together, barely stumbling under their combined weight as he carries them down into the halls and around the maze of a manor into the frigid basement. 

There’s more shuffling before they’re laid out on some that felt like plastic- a tarp.

His footsteps retreat and eventually fade into silence and Dave gasps in sharply, coughing only a little as he opens his eyes and looks around, neither he or John had ever been down here before.

It looks normal enough, odd, but he doesn’t know how much time he has and he needs to find a way out.

He slowly untangles himself from John’s body, still soft enough to move, and he brushes his hair back from his forehead with the promise of coming back as he climbs to his feet and slowly creeps around, wary of possible cameras but nothing he can’t avoid after living with his brothers for so long.

He slides his hands along the wall, and he peeks at the windows that were too high up to reach, before he comes to an interesting discovery.

A small door (although called it a door was more of a liberal take), probably left over from construction, too small for a grown man to squeeze through, but he knew that he and John had to be small enough. He looks around and chances it as he pulls it open, and god- it’s the _sun._

He can smell outside, the fertile soil and grass, the gentle breeze. 

It’ll be a tight fit, but it’ll have to do.

He creeps back over to John and heaves him up, stumbling under his weight. His body is completely resting on him, he’s grown paler and Dave pockets his glasses so that he doesn’t lose them as he drags him, apologizing along the way.

He has to get John out first, and trying to get him out the simple way is hard and it takes up time that he doesn’t have.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He shoves at John’s body hard and he hears a pop- not a snap, maybe just the dislocation of a shoulder? 

Dave hopes that’s all it is as he pushes John’s body the rest of the way, easier now than it had been and he climbs out after, he can’t look around, he can’t waste time.

It’s the back of the house, and it’s surrounded by thick woods. He doesn’t know how deep they go, how far away from humanity they even _are,_ but he’s running on borrowed luck, stolen from a dead sun.

He hauls John up, heart beating faster, it’s pure adrenaline, and he runs.

He runs deep into the woods, he doesn’t hear gunshots or anyone giving chase, and he knows it’s distantly because no one’s going to be on the lookout for two dead boys.

Dave doesn’t know how far he is when he finally slows to a walk, but his feet hurt, there’s blood caked to his feet from stepping on sharp rocks and twigs, but he walks on, driven by the angel in his arms.

He needs to lay him outside of Heaven’s gate.

He needs to hear the blow of the trumpets and the crying of the harp as one of their fallen brethren is mourned. 

He stumbles, he’s weak and tired and John’s body is so heavy, but he can’t stop, it brings tears to his eyes to even consider it.

He can’t go back. 

The sun starts to set when he sees something that gives him hope.

A deer.

Or a fawn, rather, watching him from where it was hidden among the brush by its mother. A moment of kindredness passes over them as he slows to watch it back.

A renewed vigor filled him as he walked, and John didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

The trees broke unexpectedly and suddenly, and it was a relief to see the asphalt that Dave actually did cry, he just needed a way back home.

He needed to get John home.

He walked, close to the tree line, scared that he’d happen upon one of Jack’s men because it’s been hours, and they must have discovered their missing bodies by now.

John’s body had molded itself to him in a way that looked like he was carrying a sleeping lover, his head tucked beneath his chin, his hair tickled at him and he smelled like grass and blood.

A light sparked over the road, too far out to separate friend from foe but Dave couldn’t risk waiting any longer for another car.

He sped, not quite running, and yelling hoarsely.

“Stop! Stop the car, please! We need help, stop!” 

He didn’t think the car would stop, nor would a woman hop out, her eyes wide with worry as she ran quickly to Dave’s side.

“Honey? Are you and your friend okay-“

“Help us, please, we have to go before he _finds_ us, please, I can’t-“

She quickly looks around before guiding him to the car, opening the door for him to climb in, struggling under he and John’s combined weight.

The car pulled off as soon as the woman was inside, speeding along the road.

“I’m Damara and this is my friend, Rufioh- is there someone we should call, does your friend need a hospital-“

“He killed him.” He whispered softly and she inhaled sharply, but nodded, now properly observing John under the lights. 

“Should we call the police or a hospital?”

“No, no.. Call my brother, please, if you call the police.. he’ll know.” He listed off Bro’s phone number and they all listened as it rang, put on speaker and now resting on the center console. 

_“Hello?”_

“Bro?”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone and Dave speaks again, rushed.

“Bro? Say something, please.”

_“Jack if this is another one of your tricks, I swear- I swear I’ll wring your damn neck-“_

“It’s Dave!” He hadn’t even known that Jack had been tormenting Bro like that. “It’s me, promise, remember-remember that time Dirk and I dyed Cal pink and-and D laughed so hard he cried but you were so mad you couldn’t-couldn’t speak, it’s me, I promise, it’s me.”

There’s a pause on the phone and loud shuffling, and Dave knows who it is before he even speaks.

_“Dave? Oh my god, you’re alive, fuck,”_ Dirk’s voice is relieved. _“Where’s John? Where are you two?”_

“I..” Dave looks up at Damara. “I don’t know where we are.”

_“Hold on, Bro’s tracing the call.. Holy shit, Nevada? You’re in- We’re calling the detective, don’t go to the police, try to find a hospital-“_

“John’s dead.” Dave’s voice doesn’t even sound like his own, it’s empty. “I’ve been carrying a dead body for hours now. They’re going to call the police.”

_“Oh god.. Okay.. Okay. Dave? I love you. We’ll do what we can from over here, okay?”_

“Okay.”

Dirk keeps Dave on the phone until the detective, a woman named Aranea gets there, and tells them that the best thing they can do to avoid suspicion is to find a hotel, pretend John’s asleep, and wait.

It breaks Dave down to tears, and he hears her pause.

_“I know this is hard for you, but it’s the best we can do. Can you do it? You have to save John one more time.”_

Dave sniffs, eyes red and puffy, he’s cried so much in the last few hours that he doesn’t know how he still has tears left in him.

“Okay.”

  
  


Rufioh and Damara are quiet as they ride, Dave can only stare blankly ahead. 

His head is a confused mess of white noise and bleakness, his heart is twisting up inside his chest in a way that pains him more than anything Jack and his lackeys could have done.

They find a hotel, they toss a cover around himself and John and they walk in and rent a room, and they ask them to keep the AC high.

When they enter the room, Damara watches as Dave looks at the three beds before walking over and laying John in the smallest one, only to collapse to his knees beside it with loud and sudden sobs.

“Dave-“

“It’s okay, I’m okay-“ He wipes tears, but more rush out to replace them, and he knows deep down that there’s no changing what has been done.

“It’ll be okay,” He whispers and Damara settles on the floor beside him, her thick hair falling out from where it had been pinned by her kanzashi.

“It’s okay.. if it’s not.” She’s still unsettled by being in such close proximity to a dead body, but she can only imagine the trauma and horror inflicted upon Dave to have been holding onto it for so long. 

“I was supposed to keep him safe. I-I told him I’d keep him safe.”

“Dave, you did your best and-and you can’t blame yourself..” He’s staring down at his dead friend as she speaks, and she wonders if she’s even getting through to him.

“I know.” She pats his shoulder gently and he flinches a little, but doesn’t move further. 

“Okay. They’ll be here soon.”

  
  


The detective comes with a private ambulance and they file into the room, taking John with them and treating Dave’s wounds.

“He’ll need a few stitches, but for now we can sanitize these cuts on his feet and wrap them until we can get to a hospital.”

“Alright. Dave? You’ll ride with me. John’s body will be delivered to the morgue and then transported up to Washington. Is that okay?”

His faraway gaze concerns her but he nods, prompting her to wonder how much of him is still there. 

“Come on.” She’s careful to not touch him before turning to Damara and Rufioh, who were both watching the room with a fair amount of concern.

“You two should follow me in your car. You’re both important witnesses to this case now, we’ll keep you safe.”

They nodded and followed her as she guided Dave out, walking briskly, she had a feeling that Jack no doubt had his men looking for the two boys. 

  
  


Dave didn’t speak the entire drive, taking an airplane was too risky, and any attempts at eating left him sick along the side of the road. 

She was briefly worried that he’d gotten sick from extended time carrying around John’s body and being exposed to his blood.

“Don’t worry,” He’d reassured, sipping a drink, the only thing he was able to keep down. “It’s nearly impossible to get sick from someone who.. died from trauma.”

“Trauma?”

Dave didn’t say anything else and she nodded. 

It was best he saved everything for the lawyers anyway.

  
  


When they arrived in Washington, she wasted no time quickly sending him, as well as Damara and Rufioh to a safe house. 

All meetings with his lawyers would be held there, and right now, everyone wanted a piece of their case.

The _Strider-Egbert Kidnapping,_ the media was calling it, too entangled in a story to see the trauma and death left behind.

* * *

  
Dave stepped past the threshold and stopped in his tracks as he looked around, eyes taking in everything as he stepped aside and allowed everyone else to follow him in.

“Your brothers brought you clothes and everything, you can go shower and change if you want to. Don’t throw your clothes away, though, they’re evidence.”

Dave nodded and followed the officer who offered to show him the way.

The safe house was nice, but he wasn’t so focused on its appearance as he was on getting clean, he wanted to wash the gritty feeling away, he wanted to wash away the invisible blood and viscera that was staining him.

He dug through the duffle bag of clothes on his bed and paused at the sight of a familiar blue sweater, pulling it from the bag and tracing his thumb over the blue, wispy wind symbol on the front.

He swallowed hard and found the rest of his clothes, retreating to the en-suite bathroom.

  
  


His skin was red, but no matter how much he scrubbed and scratched, nothing changed. When he rinsed his mouth out, water scolding his throat, he could still taste John’s blood.

The blood of angels stains, it stains the soul.

He gets out, red and covered in scratches, but as clean as he feels he will ever be again on the outside, he knows that on the inside, he is full of filth. 

Deep down, he’s aware that he always will be.

  
  


Dave stumbles down the stairs, his hunger and fatigue crashing into him, but he needs to see his brothers.

He owes Mr. Egbert an apology. 

He finds them in the dining room, sitting around the table and it’s only then that the smell of sweets hits his nose. 

Dave’s eyes find Dirk’s on instinct, he isn’t wearing his shades for once, hair limp and hanging similarly to Dave’s without product in it. His brothers all scramble to their feet but Dirk makes it to him first.

Irony is nonexistent, only the pain of them being separated for so long.

The twins wrapped around each and they clung to one another tightly, sliding down to their knees as Dave found himself startled by his own tears.

“Dirk, I-“

“Missed you so much.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

Dirk held him at arm's length and swept over him with his eyes.

“You need to eat. You’re hungry.” 

Dave didn’t argue or wonder how he knew, it was the perks of sharing the womb with someone, and he nods, stumbling to his feet only to be embraced by Derek and Bro, immersed suddenly in their warmth and it’s a startling feeling of _safety._

“Fuck, fuck.. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Derek whispered, voice thick with tears and Bro didn’t say anything, Dave knew the stress must be a lot on him, so he only hugged them back.

“It’ll be okay.” He assured and Derek huffed a laugh.

“I hope so.”

“Where’s-“ Dave cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “Where’s Mr. E?”

Derek nodded to the kitchen and Dave looked in that direction, lips turning down in a frown.

“I need to talk to him.”

Dirk nodded and pried his older brothers off of Dave before sending him off in that direction, eyes speaking what his mouth wasn’t.

_“You got this.”_

Dave nodded once, sharply, and then walked into the kitchen, stopping for a moment at the sight of all the baked goods that were littering the counters.

“Mr. E?”

The man turned towards Dave and his gaze softened, clouding over with tears when they fell to Dave’s sweater but he opened his arms and Dave could only rush into them, burying his face in his wrinkled shirt.

He had more gray hair and his blue eyes had lost some of their glow.

“I’m so sorry.” Dave whispered into his shirt, sniffing hard but thankfully not crying.

“Why?”

“I was supposed to bring him home to you.”

“Oh, Dave..” A hand slid through his hair, gentle and shaking. “It’s okay. That burden was not yours.”

“It felt like it was.”

Dad hugs him tighter and Dave gasps sharply, his heart speeding up.

“I was going to bring your son back and I-“

“Dave?” Dad interrupted softly. “I have lost a son, and that may never stop hurting, but I’m happy that I didn’t lose two.”

Dave bit lip hard and nodded.

“Okay.”

* * *

“Terezi Pyrope is her name, she’s never lost a case.” Aranea tells Dave, and it draws his attention.

“Never?”

“No. We believe she may be the best person for this case, but there are certainly others who we’d like you to possibly give a look at as well.”

Dave frowned, and he considered.

“Okay. I’ll meet with her.” 

“You know there are more lawyers, you don’t have to go with her _just_ because she’s never lost a case.”

“I know, but.. I can always turn her down and, really? It’s not about me, it’s.. It’s about John.”

Aranea nodded in understanding.

“I’ll give her a call.”

* * *

  
Terezi is like a wolf, her sightless eyes stare forward unfocused, but there’s a sharpness in them that Dave knows he would never cross, not unless he had a death wish.

She smiles like a cat who caught the canary, her raspy voice full of an amused sincerity as she introduced herself.

“Okay, Dave, talk to me. What do I need to know?”

Dave narrowed his eyes, and tilted his head.

“Jack Noir kidnapped my boyfriend and I on December 7th, 2019, it’s been a year, he held us for ransom money from my brother, Derek, but the police told him not to pay it.”

She nodded to show that she was listening.

“Two weeks ago, Jack Noir killed my boyfriend.”

“How?” No dancing around it, sharp like a snake snapping at its prey.

He likes her.

“Blunt force trauma, he slammed his head into the floor over and over because he- he tried to fight the man raping him off.. He died a few hours later from the bleeding.”

Her black lips pulled into a grim line, and her eyebrows curved in, a cold sort of anger settling in.

“Was the rapist Jack Noir?”

“No. I don’t know who it was.”

“Are you telling me, with the utmost certainty and sincerity, that Jack Noir kidnapped you and John Egbert on the 7th of December, blackmailed your brother, Derek Strider, for ransom money for a year until John was injured during an assault that led to his death and you eventually escaped?”

“Yes.”

She tilts her head and Dave sees the gears turning, like she’s trying to find holes in his story, but when she comes up with what he assumes is nothing- or perhaps, just nothing incriminating, she hums.

“Okay. I’ll take your case. We can get to the paperwork and everything later.”

Dave exhales sharply, but his relief is apparent as all the tension leaves his body.

“Thank you.”

She holds her hand out and Dave grasps it, shaking it firmly before letting go.

“Don’t worry, Dave, my team and I will do what we can for you.”

“It’s not for me.” He says and her eyebrows raise. 

“No?”

“No.” He thinks of John’s dying words, of his pleas, and his heart aches in a way that will never heal. “It’s for him. It’s for John.”

* * *

  
Standing in the bathroom, Dave brushes his teeth languidly, ducking down to spit, standing back up straight and startling, eyes going wide.

His toothbrush falls from his parted mouth and into the sink, clattering, but it’s all dulled against the sight of blue eyes.

“John..”

_“Hey, Dave.”_

“Oh god, I’m losing my mind.”

_“No, none of that. I just- I just wanted to let you know that you did good. I like that lawyer woman- Terezi? I like her, she’s a good one.”_

Dave just nods, in a daze.

John smiles, dimples and all, and Dave nearly bursts into tears. It feels like all he does is cry nowadays.

_“Remember what I said? About justice?”_

How could he forget? He doesn’t say this, however, he only nods.

_“It doesn’t feel so far anymore. I love you.”_

Dave closes his eyes and leans against the sink, opening his eyes again to find that John is gone.

“I love you too.” He breathes out into an empty room, the water is still running.

Remembering justice, Dave decides, is remembering humanity.

And suddenly, he sees his mistakes.

John is not an angel, nor is he the sun, he is a human. His body is fragile and easily broken, _so_ easily broken.

Dave will never forget the way his eyes dulled in death, the way he stopped breathing, the way he rested in a way he didn’t think he ever would.

_Remembering justice is remembering humanity._

John was his humanity, and now, he will give him justice. 

Whatever it takes. 

_“Do you remember when justice felt reachable?”_

For once, Dave _knows_ that he can reach it. He will grasp it with his bare hands, he’ll plant the seeds at John’s grave, he’ll sow it from the blood and life it betrayed. 

_“I’ll do it for you. I love you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was meant to be a small vent fic but it turned into something more, so I hope that you enjoyed it!


End file.
